She Knows He Knows
by SallyJetson
Summary: The long promised update of anticipating and meeting needs. It is her turn at long last!
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMERS: I do not say Danny or Lindsay in this piece but if you are thinking Danny or Lindsay remember they belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY.

**She Knows, He Knows**

The door shuts with a click and the bolts slide into place. As he unclips his phone and badge and tosses them on the table by the door he calls out her name into the darkness of the apartment.

And **She Knows** by the desperation and urgency in his voice that that will be the only word he will utter tonight until he has wiped every vestige of the sordid day from his mind and body.

She throws back the bedcovers and runs down the hall to him and throws herself into his arms. She wraps her arms around his neck and instinctively winds her legs around his waist as he lifts her to his level. He buries his face in her neck and draws the intoxicating scent of her into his nostrils.

And **He Knows** she will be here each and every time he needs her like this. He doesn't know how he ever made it through days like this before… before he had her in his life and by his side.

As the scent of her begins to revive him, his mouth travels from her neck, along her jaw and over to her mouth and he engulfs it hungrily with his own. He begins an invasion with his tongue that is relentless. She whimpers in response and her thighs tighten around his waist. He whirls her around and pushes her up against the wall.

And **She Knows** it has begun in earnest, this process of his that he does to shed the ugliness of the outside world and become human again.

His hands quickly push under the waistband of her shorts and slide down to her wetness. It is merely a formality as she drops her legs momentarily and he pushes her shorts down and she wiggles them off her legs. She deftly undoes his pants and pushes them down as far as she can with her foot. He quickly kicks them off and aside. And then their bodies are melded once more this time skin to skin.

And **He Knows** he cannot wait any longer to be inside her.

She acknowledges his silent need by whispering urgently in his ear, "I want you to be inside of me, _now._" His groan only makes her wetter and he quickly slides in between her soft folds. She gasps at his hardness and the deepness of his thrust and he stills momentarily.

But **She Knows** all she needs is a moment to adjust.

He only has to wait a moment, excruciating as it is, until she clenches slightly around him, inside her, and all bets are off. She matches him thrust for thrust and her hands clutch wildly at the hair at the nape of his neck. He has one arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders and the other hand braced against the wall right next to her head to steady them as their bodies move rhythmically as one.

And **He Knows **he is on the verge…

And **She Knows** this is the _only_ situation where he will willingly release before her.

She sends him over the edge by whispering raggedly against his ear, "I want you to come _now_ inside of me… don't worry, I'm right behind you." And in the next thrust, she feels him pulse inside her and she follows him over the edge as her whole insides quiver in spasms that milk his climax to the very end.

Their bodies still and the only indication that they are awake is their ragged breathing. He pushes back from the wall with his hand and hugs her tightly to him.

And **She Knows** he is back to his better self now.

And **He Knows** that he owes her a debt of gratitude for allowing him to come back in his own way and on his terms.

And **She Knows** he'll only need a half an hour and he'll be ready to make good on that debt of gratitude that he owes her. And it will be on her terms!

**Author's Note: **The next chapter is up... read on... at your own risk!


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note**: Sorry it took me so long to update this piece. When I wrote the first chapter my 'sure thing' was out of town. I didn't write this chapter until he went out of town again. I tend to write to 'M' stuff when his is out of town. Gee, I wonder why.

DISCLAIMERS: Danny and Lindsay belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY.

**She Knows He Knows -- Her Turn**

Her legs and arms wrap tightly around him, as he carries her to the bedroom. He removes the last of her clothes and lays her gently on the bed. She stretches her arms above her head in extreme satisfaction at the recent episode against the door, but her toes curl and she sighs softly in utter anticipation at what is coming next.

**She knows** how it will begin and how it will end, but everything in between is at her lover's whim.

He quickly removes the last of his clothes and settles his lithe body along hers and drops his fingertips to her taut stomach that shivers slightly, at the tickling sensation. He laughs slightly into her ear and begins to whisper.

**He knows** she loves to hear him speak the language of love and this is the only time he speaks it, is here, to her, alone.

"Siete desiderio del mio cuore"

Her hand reaches across and rests her fingers against his lips, while his chin leans on her thumb. This way, not only can she hear the words, but she can feel them as they waft across his lips.

"Ci sono nessun altro ma voi."

He looks into her eyes and she can see the words as well. He pauses all movement and sound, while he silently drinks in her soul from her eyes.

And **She Knows** that she must wait too.

He will not be rushed, but the waiting is agonizing because her body is beginning to wake, from its orgasmic lethargy. When he finally moves, it is to lean across her body and reach into a drawer of the bedside table. She can feel the weight of his muscled chest across hers and his chest hairs titillating the very sensitive nipples of her breasts. She watches as he pulls out a small bottle and grins wickedly at her.

And **He Knows** this will drive her to the brink of persistent desire and overwhelming need.

_Oh, he is cruel and kind at the same time!_ He dribbles the liquid slowly down her body, starting at the slight hollow in her neck, down through the valley of her breasts, into the dimple of her bellybutton, where he finally stops and sets the bottle down. The pungent scent, of pine, laced with a tinge of vanilla assails her senses and melds old memories of wild, Montana mountains, with recent ones of trendy New York coffee shops.

**She Knows** what comes next, therefore she sends up a silent prayer to whatever god may be listening, that she can make it through, without begging him to satisfy her, before he is ready.

He pushes himself up on his knees beside her and begins to methodically rub the oil into her skin, leaving no skin between the hollow in neck and her lower abs untouched. His hands are gentle and firm at the same. His fingertips work the oil in small circles, while he alternately dispenses larger ones with his hands; eight small concurrent circles and then two large ones; over and over again down her body. Soon the swirling in her head mimics those circles; smaller then larger, over and over again. The sensations envelope her, as she loses touch with reality and a whimper slips out.

**He Knows** she is slipping now into that place where only sensations register and the only way back to the concrete world, if one really ever wants to return, is through complete and utter release.

As he reaches the boundary between bare skin and tightly curling tendrils that hide a succulent feast cleverly hidden from probing fingers and seeking lips, he must pick his poison. Does he drive it on or does he put them both out of their sweet, tortuous misery at once. Because she gave so completely of herself earlier, he wants this to be about her, so he drives it through, without anymore thoughts to his needs. Besides as long as the phones don't ring, they have all night.

He trails his fingers up along her inner thigh starting at the knee and working his way to the tight v between her thighs. He can already smell her scent, even through the pine/vanilla scented oil that is rising seductively off her skin. Given a choice, he will pick her naturally sweet scent over the synthesized pine/vanilla variety any day of the week. He continues to kneel beside her while his other hand makes its way up to the lips of her mouth. She feverishly licks his fingertips in some kind of attempt at release while his other hand hovers at the entrance of the source of her wetness. He slowly traces his fingers around both entrances at once. _God, he is a master at two handed manipulation!_

And **She Knows** that the gods have not answered her prayers, at least, not in the way she requested!

"Pleeeaaaasssseeee!" she wails ever so softly and she can't help but moan as he slides one finger into both, hot, dripping wet orifices at once.

But **He Knows** by her reaction, that one finger is not enough and soon it is two.

While her mouth and tongue rhythmically work on his fingers therein, mimicking the rhythm of his fingers below; her insides begin to clench. The shudder that rips through her body, signals the onslaught of her release and as he methodically brings her through it; he is awed by how beautiful and serene she looks, when she begins to free fall from that precipice of complete tension down to the velvety softness of utter relaxation. His fingers slip out of her mouth and one last sigh escapes her lips, as she eyes him through drowsy eyelids.

He pulls his fingers out from below and triumphantly sucks her sweet juices from his fingers.

She smiles indulgently at him and pulls him down to her. What did she ever do, to deserve a lover like him? She kisses him fully on the mouth and she can taste herself on him. She revels in how he tastes with her in his mouth.

**She Knows** that he has indulged her lavishly and he is ready to be satiated.

While their tongues continue to spar, with the intention of seeing who can extend the deepest into the inner recesses of each other's mouth, she runs her hand along the bed until she finds the object she is seeking. She winds her arms around his back so that she can manipulate a squirt of the pine/vanilla oil into the palm of her hand. She slyly snakes her oil-laced palm, in between their bodies and clasps his hardness in her hand. One of the things she loves about him is that one of her hands does not do him justice and the other quickly joins the first. As she begins, the methodical stroking, he breaks the kiss and rolls off of her onto his back with a deep appreciative groan.

"Dio, le cose che fate a me."

She's relatively sure that that phrase isn't about love, but lust and she smiles in exuberance at her power over him.

**He Knows** that he is putty in her hands, not literally, of course, because she makes him harder than a stone monolith; however, he is happy with the analogy, because at this point, the things she does to him are beyond his literal comprehension anyway.

As she continues to stroke and rub him, she slips one finger up to his tip and traces an agonizingly slow circle repetitively. The intense sensation causes him to buck his hips and wind his hands, tightly in her hair. She enjoys the pleasure pain she feels all up and down her scalp as he tries to assuage his mounting pressure by pulling her mouth down to his shaft. However, her body has already readied itself again for him, so she has other plans in mind.

"Scopata, li ho bisogno" he says in desperation as she resists his efforts.

**She Knows** that phrase is definitely about lust and notes they're going to have to change the rules about the language of love to include lust as well.

"I need you too!" she whispers reassuringly to him. His hands release her hair in comprehension and clamp decisively onto her hips. He rolls her onto her back and she squeals with delight as he hovers over her. The smug smirk on his face, makes her desire him even more, so she smirks back at him in silent challenge, _"Bring- it- on-!"_

That is all the urging he needs as he drives into her with reckless abandon. But she is not about to be left behind as she matches him thrust for thrust and moan to groan. Her eyes never leave his until the pressure inside her mounts to an unbearable state of being.

Then **He Knows** from the slightest flutter of her eyelids that she will cave soon and he is ready to float down with her when she plunges.

She stills momentarily as she breathlessly whispers, "I love you, Danny!" And then she is falling into the most incredible sense of unearthliness she has ever felt before.

"Ti amo, anche, Lindsay" he returns emotionally as he follows her down.

As they settle into each others arms at the blissful end, he presses a fierce kiss to her shoulder, while she buries her face into his neck. The emotion, between is so overwhelmingly tender and sweet that **He** **Knows** that **She** **Knows** there is no need for any more words.


End file.
